Eastern Banquet
by elenalunapotter
Summary: Ginny's indiscretions had a result that Harry wouldn't have thought, especially when no one knew the girl was listening something she shouldn't supposed to listen... fruits within a painting and a treat will be the unexpected outcome. H/Hr.


Ok, ladies and gentleman, this is the english version of "Banquete Oriental", writen a while ago. My first one-shot smut and I hope it's good enough for you. I want to thank my beta, Alex (the lost tree, in tumblr), for her great help with this and my fic "The Darkness Before Dawn". Take a seat and enjoy it. Please, read and review :)

* * *

**EASTERN BANQUET**

Ginny was leaving the Burrow quickly and walked nervously toward the creek which was about five minutes behind the house as soon as she could. Despite being slightly annoyed, it was obvious that she was barely containing a scream. What she had just heard, far from scared her, it thrilled her in a way; well, she was thrilled.

She just recently arrived from her practice in St. Mungo's and on her way to Ron's room to greet him, Ginny heard a whispered conversation: it wasn't only her brother, but Harry too, apparently talking about things that were not for her ears. But she couldn't help it. Ginny always wondered what it was like to hear the opposite sex talk in the absence of the girls and her suspicions were true.

On reaching the creek, Ginny sat on the shore while biting her lips wondering what to do. Oh! This was better than she had ever thought. She always suspected it from Harry but never talked so openly enough with him to ask questions fearing they were not the correct ones to ask.

Meditating, Ginny recalled that her painting classes -something that Hermione insisted her on taking- starts in two hours; and suddenly she had an inspiration. She covered her mouth with her hands to silence a scream of excitement while inside she laughed at her own wit. She had to plan everything so it'd be as good as what she was thinking, after all, it was Hermione's idea. If she had bothered Ginny to take those classes, at least Hermione would have to contribute. Blackmailing her if needed, but she would have to cooperate.

All she needed now was the necessary space.

A conspiratorial smile struck upon her face because Grimmauld Place was available, and that smile spread from ear to ear showing the world her white teeth in triumph. There was no doubt it was a worthy sister of the famous Weasley twins.

Three days later, a Saturday afternoon, Ginny was preparing one of the many rooms in Black Manor. The redhead had asked Harry advance permission for this. Since she needed a peaceful setting for her art, there was no better place than the manor and he did not object. Since it was the weekend, Hermione would be available, although this would take a little persuasion.

Ginny had already arranged countless shades throughout the room attempting on recreating an oriental lounge. Huge chiffon meters of different colors hung from the ceiling with fine detail on the edges. The carpeted floor was barely noticeable with a lot of huge, fluffy pillows all over it. At the center of the room -to which Ginny needed to expand magically- the bed that had been there previously ended transformed into a rather peculiar mahogany table where two huge cushions rested. Around this table were huge bowls full of various tropical fruits and berries. Tall vases and pitchers made of copper and gold -inlaid props, of course- exquisitely decorated, and the whole room had chandeliers with colored candles, some lit vanilla incense permeating the place of a mysterious mist with its intoxicating scent. It caused the sense of faint aroma of spices and other food that was prepared permeate the air and made Ginny smile slyly.

She arranged her easel with a large rectangular canvas top, and her palette with oil ready for her purpose.

_'If this doesn't work, then I don't know what else I can do,'_ thought the redhead, satisfied but with some reservation.

In that moment, a knock on the door was heard and Ginny opened it to find Hermione wrapped in a huge crimson satin gown with delicate gold embroidery and the redhead could not help thinking that the chestnut was a Gryffindor at heart.

Ginny nodded to let Hermione in because the girl had been standing there, motionless, gulped and looked inside the room suspiciously.

"I want you to know," began Hermione, but Ginny interrupted.

"Yes, yes, I know: _you __don't__ agree_," the ironic tone of the redhead didn't faze Hermione, who twisted her lips in a smirk. "Still ..." Ginny looked at her observing the environment of the room "... It was you who insisted I take art classes, remember?"

"Oh! It is impossible to forget. Don't you get tired of reminding me?"

"I know!" Ginny admitted without a hint of shame, "and I'll keep reminding you unless you help me with this!" Ginny replied with a whine in her voice.

Hermione growled.

"Just to be clear, Ginevra Molly Weasley," Hermione's threatening tone was there, but the redhead did not flinch, "this is the first and last time I do this!"

"Fine," settled the redhead shrugging immutable which made Hermione growl again.

"Agh! I don't know how I agreed to do this. I just hope you'll fulfill your promise."

"Oh! I will, not a trace of your face on the painting. I'll put a mirror and will copy mine, so no one will know that the one posing is you. As you can see," she pointed her arm round the room, "the one missing here is you. Lie down on the table, settle down as comfortably as you can because it's going to take long."

Hermione couldn't help but growl as she blushed and went to the center of the room to settle herself on the table when the redhead chuckled.

"No, no, no!" the playful tone of Ginny's voice reached her ears with little more than simple fun. "Take off your gown," Hermione opened her eyes almost frightened thinking she'd misheard Ginny. She was about to protest but the redhead did not permit such thing, "Oh! Please Hermione, don't say you're shy! It's not as if I had never seen the body of a naked woman before. I see myself in the mirror sometimes!"

"But it's _my_ body you will see," said Hermione shocked at the prospect of somebody else looking at her.

"It's the same thing, Hermione," Ginny said placating her.

"It's not."

"Of course it is! We both have quite the same parts right? Or are you afraid of me taking advantage of you?" and Ginny smiled a perverted grin so voluptuous that made Hermione think indecent things. The brown-eyed woman's expression must have been so terrified that Ginny could not help but laugh. "Don't worry, Herms," the nickname made Hermione's lips twist in disgust, "girls do not catch my attention. You're missing a very important part that only the male anatomy can provide, so come on, take off your robe and lie down!" rushed the redhead and the brunette sighed wearily. Hermione slowly removed her robe slyly as her face blushed furiously. Ginny smiled slyly as she watched her friend get naked in front of her.

Hermione was somewhat demure. In her life she hadn't been seen naked except for her parents as a child -and, of course, herself. Rarely used a swimsuit and never a bikini, like any other girl. When Ginny approached her with her request to pose for her, Hermione shrugged in horror but had to give up because the idea of the art classes for Ginny were accepted under _her_ pressure. She couldn't refuse. While Hermione admired Renaissance art nudes, never imagined that she would end up in one, and precisely for this reason, she asked Ginny to omit her face and hair completely which the redhead agreed. The girl gladly accepted because she undoubtedly would have put the same objection.

So, Hermione took off her robe, beneath which was nothing but her skin, and with a sensuality that only Ginny could grasp, sat on the table. Ginny looked at her thoughtfully, appreciating the position in which she found her friend and snapping her fingers went to a corner where two bottles awaited. With her wand wavering behind her, the bottles floated at her command as she walked to Hermione and the girl looked at them almost afraid.

"What will you do with that?"

"Don't panic, Mione!" the relaxed tone of the redhead did not damper the sudden shock of the now naked girl. "This is to make it more, how would I say it ...attractive? Don't move!" And as she said this, Ginny stuck a couple of fingers in a jar that she had just opened. A good portion of whipped cream on them made Hermione unconsciously lick her lips, but she was still somewhat scared. Without asking for permission, Ginny's fingers approached one of the nipples of her friend and touched it so that all dark part of it was covered. She applied a little more while Hermione pressed her lips together: the texture of the cream on her nipple suddenly hardened both nipples with a touch of madness. In her life she'd never been touched like that and it made her shudder slightly. Ginny repeated the process on the other nipple and this time the brunette gasped. The redhead smiled inwardly.

Oh! This idea was erotic enough to resist. She had already done this with Neville.

_'I'm a genius',_ thought the redhead.

Hermione closed her eyes, unable to resist. The sensation of the cream on her erect, exposed nipples made her imagine little indecent things, but Ginny was not in such quick fantasies ... and when Hermione thought it ended, the redhead opened her legs and rubbed a lot more cream in her most intimate part.

Startled, Hermione winced but before she could say anything, Ginny relented.

"Come on, Hermione! Don't be a prude."

"It's just that ..." and she couldn't say more because, although she felt the fingers of her friend, the cream was so thin that she was wet in a second

The redhead, feeling the tension, decided it was better do something to relax her friend, so Ginny made a pause and returned with a glass filled with wine from one of the nearby vases. Hermione looked at her suspiciously and laid her haunted eyes on the cup.

"Drink just a bit, Hermione," Ginny asked quietly, but when the brunette didn't move, the redhead rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I'm starting to feel annoyed, Hermione. Drink it. You don't have to finish it if you don't want to. Give two or three sips and that's it, just to minimize the tension. If you don't relax, I won't be able to paint and this is an important qualification."

Noting the stress in Ginny's voice, Hermione sighed and slowly drank lightly from the glass while her friend was smirking slightly. The redhead took the other bottle, this time with liquid chocolate and opened it. Meanwhile, the liquor was making its effect on Hermione, relaxing her enough. Ginny stuck her fingers in the bottle and approached Hermione: let slip a few drops on the whipped cream on the body of her friend, but she felt nothing. When she finished, Ginny took two steps back to admire the view and felt that something was missing. She snapped her fingers and went to one of the platters, grabbed a strawberry and placed it inside the navel and the naked girl opened her eyes wildly, the difference was that Hermione seemed rather amused.

"I thought it would be best, since you have whipped cream," shrugged the redhead answering the unspoken question of her friend. Ginny went to the other platters peeled, sliced and scattered a banana on Hermione's naked body, who had already taken two more sips from her glass. But the redhead was not completely satisfied so she did the same with a mango and then a peach.

"I look like a salad," Hermione said a bit more entertained than sorry.

"I know." Ginny admired the panorama. "Don't drink anymore, that's sufficient. I want to display the cup with wine and I don't want you to look drunk."

"You can pour more wine in it"

"Yes, but I still don't want you drunk. That's not very professional."

"You're not going to paint my face."

"But I'll paint your body. Instead of being sensual, you'll look ridiculous."

Hermione had to admit she had a good argument.

So Ginny looked back on stage, cleverly prepared, and sat behind the easel.

* * *

It was nine o'clock at night when Harry returned to Grimmauld Place and was tempted to go to the room that Ginny had borrowed. He was curious to know exactly what she was painting there because the girl told him it was a surprise. According to his calculations, the redhead would be there from ten in the morning, when she arrived, but asked not being interrupted for any reason.

Harry had gone to practice Quidditch with Ron and had just returned. His friend offered him to have dinner at the Burrow but refused for two powerful reasons: first, because he was tired, and second, because he thought that perhaps Hermione was there and, lately, Harry preferred not to be around her.

And, every time she was around, he got nervous.

Well ... it wasn't "lately". This actually had been going on for quite some time already.

Three years ago they had left Hogwarts, and when that happened, he had already discovered his feelings for Hermione. At first he thought that would be his hormones so he went out with Ginny and a couple of other girls. The problem was when he realized it was not enough because, as much as he had a girl and was enjoying a certain amount of passion, Hermione was the main reason he felt like a man. Then he thought that what happened to him was something out of an unhealthy habit that made him react with irrational jealousy when Hermione was with a guy and his "instincts" kept him alert to care for her. Although he knew that Hermione could take care of herself - and that's why she was always in his mind. Harry even thought he would need a psychologist to treat his "problem" thinking that what happened was something totally out of place.

He tried to ignore -in vain- what was going through his head and the lower part of his body. What was worse, since leaving school, Harry felt increasingly trapped in a hole just thinking that Hermione could very well be dating someone from the Ministry and that, that could become formal and that was when, mad to think of her surrounded by a stranger's arms, went out partying with fellows from the Puddlemere United, getting some girl, curiously, a girl who looked so close to Hermione, with Hermione's hair and eyes, and after a short prelude he'd take her to a hotel.

Harry confessed this to Ron only three days ago... And never noticed Ginny hearing absolutely everything.

* * *

Oh! Hermione's case was so similar, the difference was that when she found out that Harry was dating a girl or when she listened at the door of Grimmauld closing the day after, her heart was breaking a little, but she never took such a rash decision of even going to have sex with the first man walking in front of her. Certainly she had dates, only very few and none of them advanced beyond touching above the clothing and none of those caresses near her erogenous parts.

She wasn't in any way narrow-minded, only painful shy.

Ginny also knew all this because Hermione confessed under the influence of a few drinks nearly two years ago and felt pity for her predicament. The redhead knew quite well that Hermione was a virgin, not for lack of opportunity, but because she hoped that Harry would look at her under a new light someday.

So when Ginny heard everything from the very mouth of the source, she was so excited. It was a thrill of joy mixed with disbelief as she realized that they were in love and dumber to the point of blindness while they could very well be fucking like little bunnies on spring instead of grieving in the corners.

The best of all this was that they're in love.

So Ginny prepared this exact plan.

And remembering that plan, she took several pictures of Hermione and the brown haired girl went berserk.

"GINNY!" cried Hermione.

"Calm down, Mione," replied the redhead and hid her muggle camera of 20 mega pixels. "What's happening is that I'm losing the light and I need to check a photograph with my painting to see if the stroke is failing me. As you may have noticed, the daylight has been gone for hours," and Ginny pointed out the window. Hermione realized that, indeed, the sunlight gave life to the room and now had only a dim light from the street lamps. "So I need the comparison of both images," Ginny tucked the camera in her pocket and grabbed the blade of her oils. "Damn!" she muttered as she searched her bag and around her. "I ran out the ocher."

"And what will you do?"

"Well, I'll go for a new one. Neville and I have several at home, but I don't know ... I have to go see."

Hermione freaked out.

"No. You can't leave me... like this!" she screeched, pointing at herself lying on the table with the tempting food.

"I wouldn't if it weren't so necessary, Herms!" Ginny really looked troubled, "but I have to finish or else I won't get a good grade for this!" And as she said that, she covered the canvas with a dark cloth and stood up to get her bag. "Be right back. Don't move. Meanwhile, why don't you get a sip of wine? Ah, but only a sip and nothing else," she said with a wave of her finger.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"All right," she muttered and heard the door close behind the redhead. She sighed and let her mind fly off to certain things that never in a million years she would think to confess to anyone, such as the pleasant sensation of the soft whipped cream on her nipples and chocolate drops, slipping, caressing her skin with a tingle that provoked sighs. The fruit chunks probably already had given their flavor to her skin and, if anything it could be as real as her fantasy, there would be a specific mouth that would like to take and remove every particle of food on her body.

Hermione sighed knowing that the owner of said mouth would never know that fantasy.

While in that position, the naked brunette felt a peaceful slumber. She didn't know if it was the incense or wine, or both, but decided to doze for a while until Ginny could get back again.

* * *

"I'm so glad to see you here, Harry," Ginny said when she saw him in front of the fireplace in the living room. He winced when he heard her approach and his heart jumped. He was thinking about Hermione and...Well, he was thinking about it and the truth was that he was concentrating so hard he could have sworn that Ginny noticed what was going through his head and unconsciously he felt ashamed.

"Oh! ... eh ... Oh yeah? Why?" he asked nervously.

"Well, it's because I'm going to get some ocher oil because I ran out."

"And do you want me to buy some?"

"Oh, no! No, nothing like that," the redhead vigorously denied. "I only wanted to ask you to not let anyone get into the room."

Harry looked at her questioningly. "Why?"

"Because it's a surprise and I don't want anyone else to see my canvas just yet."

"And ... Can't I see it either?"

"Well ... I'm not sure," as she said this, Ginny looked at Harry speculatively, studying his innocent face. "Well, maybe there won't be any problem, but only if it's you and you alone," and the girl could see a smile on the face of her green-eyed friend. He couldn't imagine what was inside the room. She nodded at the man, and since he was dying with curiosity, started climbing up the stairs to the second floor. Ginny watched him, noticing that Harry's wand had been left in the living room.

When the man opened the door to the room he was speechless. Suddenly he felt as if he had been carried the story of the Arabian Nights: the atmosphere was inviting to the comfort and pleasure of peace. On neither side could he recognize the cold dusty room it was before. Harry noticed that Ginny had changed everything with magic and now it was a broader place at least twice its original size. There were so many colored curtains hanging from the ceiling that he thought that at any moment odalisques would come dancing wrapped in multicolor veils with coins hanging from their hips and breasts. Almost immediately sensed the aroma of incense and fruit that made him slide into a kind of psychedelic trance. Without thinking, he took a few steps inside and observed that in the center of the room was something that couldn't see through the shades -beyond it looked like shadows... He could catch a gentle click behind him that made him turn while he heard a soft voice coming from among dozens of curtains, which made him forget the door completely.

Curiosity got the better of him and Harry cautiously ventured in, gently moving the curtains in his wake, the more he got in, the easier it was to discern what was in the center. His pulse and breathing began to speed up, realizing there was someone else and, moving with the precision and stealth of a cat, not even his breathing betrayed him. Before moving the last veil, Harry discerned a figure lying on a table...

Hermione sighed. She lay, indeed, even with a good amount of whipped cream and fruit on her, on top of the cushions that Ginny had decorated the table with. She had already finished with the wine and was feeling its effects. However, the incense relaxed her so greatly that nothing would disturbed her peace. Harry's entrance passed unnoticed because she didn't hear his foray or the door shutting. Hermione closed her eyes as gently stretched her muscles, for a moment, she felt so tensed that at the same time left out a long, tender sigh.

It was then that Harry, with the most possible stillness, moved the final curtain and could see the girl laying on her side, rubbing her thighs in a way that was so sinuous, her arms moved sideways so slowly and the girl stretched her neck while throwing her head back so slightly that the view made him gasp. He didn't miss a single detail of her nakedness. An inviting nudity beyond imagination because bits of food covered what must have being kept in mystery and could not help that his blood traveled down his body, below his navel, so painfully it seemed incredible he hadn't screamed. He stood there with his mouth open completely surprised at the sight of Hermione in a scene so deliciously erotic.

Never in his wettest dreams could he have found something like that. For a moment he felt the urgent need to go away as quietly as he arrived, now that Hermione didn't even notice his presence... but his feet refused to move. Harry appreciated every detail of her and the surroundings, almost as if she had been prepared for him. If this had been a fantasy, the brunette should've opened her eyes and, with a smile, she would've made him fall at her feet and, like the Roman emperors, would have held a bouquet of sweet grapes over her full, ruby lips.

Three steps later, Harry was almost in front of her, his eyes glued on her at the view of the body that seemed to be waiting for him.

Since this wasn't a fantasy, the girl, who heard the faint rustle of cushions when Harry dropped to his knees in front of her, opened her eyes to meet the green-eyed man's face inches from hers. Her honey eyes almost jumped out of their sockets and she gasped.

And moments later, Harry placed his lips on hers without giving her a chance to say a word.

At first, Hermione was altered to the point of fear. Too many terrified thoughts crossed her mind in a heartbeat, _'What's he doing here? Oh, my God! This is embarrassing! He must be thinking I'm a whore,'_ but the next moment, feeling Harry's warm lips and tongue trying to get into her mouth, her brain stopped functioning. She could only register how good it felt to kiss him, the electrifying feeling that ran from head to toe as her arms became entangled in the man's strong neck -and recalled that she was covered in food and he was dressed as she was about to lose the only thing covering her private parts... and moved away from him as if a bucket of ice water had fallen on her.

Harry felt Hermione move away and stepped back enough to look at her face, his eyes scared and troubled. She seemed to find something to cover with but she knew that if she moved or removed the food off Ginny's work would be ruined, not to mention she would end up without her unique garment.

Startled, she looked elsewhere except those green eyes that were hungrily scanning her.

"Ha ... Harry," Hermione stuttered and her tone made very clear that the situation embarrassed her. "I didn't know ... Ginny said ... Oh! You don't know how-"she couldn't finish a single sentence. The words jostled in her mouth while her head felt like spinning faster and faster, not remembering that moments ago she was kissing him. Harry, meanwhile, was trying to process what she had said unsuccessfully because the blood (and apparently also his neurons too) continued accumulating throughout the lower part of his body. "No ... You shouldn't get in here... I wasn't prepared ... I thought you weren't home ... Ginny said she would be back soon ... Oh! I'm… this is so embarrassing! Please don't look at me!"

"W-why not?" Harry stammered. The latter was all he could understand because the rest of her words couldn't seemed to reach him. He only knew that the girl had reciprocated the kiss and that was all he needed.

To the question, Hermione looked into his eyes in surprise.

"What? Because... I don't ... my clothes ... and I-"

"You," Harry whispered still under the spell that the atmosphere had him wrapped in. His green eyes fixed their attention on her honey eyes without paying attention to anything else. "You look so beautiful. Why shouldn't I look at you?" Harry unconsciously bit his lip and this action, far from passing away unnoticed by Hermione, seemed so tempting that she mimicked him almost reflexively.

Harry laid his eyes on hers and then on her lips and back to her eyes and, without warning, he closed the gap between them and kissed her again and Hermione just closed her eyes as the man's lips took possession of her own, with a little nervousness, but also with abandon. She could feel Harry's fingers gently take her face as she did the same. Slowly, the tender kiss became passionate and both breathed agitatedly, and Harry's hands roamed her neck and arms... then her hips and thighs and Hermione could not help but let out a slight moan that made her break the kiss.

Oh! But that wouldn't stop him. Deprived of her lips he made a trail of kisses down her cheeks to her neck, relishing the soft sweet scent of her smooth skin, marveling Harry with the sensuous vision, submitted completely in the sensations as much as the sounds Hermione emitted.

She, of course, was under the same spell in which he was. She couldn't –or dare- move Harry away in a moment as sensual as that. She closed her eyes while enjoying the gentle lapping of the boy's lips on her hot skin. She blushed so extremely that the heat –Hermione could swear- had the same intensity as the sun. And if she had been dreaming, the girl never wanted to wake up.

She was so disperse that she didn't feel Harry momentarily move a bit away from her: the green-eyed man freed himself of his shirt and quickly returned to his work of savoring and worshipping his friend's body carefully, desperate to continue exploring what was prepared for him. Meanwhile, he briefly wondered why she didn't stop him... but would not be stupid enough to question her that. He didn't want to break the charm under any circumstances, so, licking his lips, he continued kissing Hermione's skin, now, down to her chest, determined to remove the creamy coverage on her right nipple, his hands meanwhile caressing the neck and the curvature of her waist.

When Harry's tongue made contact with the whipped cream on her right nipple with his teeth, Hermione breathed deeply through the nose by the impression that the feeling provoked her. The boy listened the intake of air but hadn't really had the time to pay attention; his tongue slowly withdrew the cream around the nipple until he reached it and took it in his mouth and began to suck methodically. Hermione unnecessarily asked for more, -because she did- since he had no intention of stopping and, moreover, emboldened him to continue. Once he left no hint of cream, continued with the other breast. At this moment, Harry had to accommodate on the table to lean on her in an attempt to not strain his already sore muscles, so tense, he didn't want to ruin the moment with a cramp.

Her hands sought his contact. She slithered her fingers and nails on his shoulders and bare back and would've surrounded the boy's legs if it wasn't him stopping her.

Feeling her intentions, however reluctantly, he had to remove his mouth from her breast to rise slightly and shift his face over hers.

"No," whispered Harry, and Hermione noticed the boy's emerald eyes were dim in an amazing way while his contemplative stare devoured her. "First I'll take away all the food," then he smiled down at her with delight. "I'm starving," and slid back down to finish removing the cream on the nipple.

Hermione grabbed with both hands his dark hair. It felt so good these strands between her fingers ... and he seemed to be doing the same with her breasts ... she wasn't even aware of emitting those little moans that mesmerized him so much.

Encouraged, the green-eyed man sucked and licked both breasts with more fervor, which didn't seem to tire him out, until he decided that the rest of the fruit should be removed as well and, with kisses, was touring the rest of her body, removing the pieces of fruit with his teeth, gently brushing the white skin of the brunette who, from time to time, left out a cry or a hiss unintentionally. For Harry it was as if someone had prepared him a banquet ... the feast of his dreams with Hermione as the main dish.

Harry licked whatever skin he could reach that had drops of chocolate or fruit, dedicated and focused on not leaving any trace or hint that there was something, leaving behind traces of his own saliva, as if this action will mark his territory. But when he reached the navel and noticed the huge strawberry embedded, captured it with his mouth, and a bit of pressure, and Hermione felt an electric shock that traveled at the speed of light to the most private part letting out a moan a little louder than before.

Before the girl could recover at all, Harry took both her thighs with his hands and opened them without feeling any resistance. When he looked into that hidden place, completely covered in whipped cream that was already melting, Harry let out his breath with a light, almost imperceptive gasp. He couldn't wait any longer and bent over her, nestled his face between those long legs, opened just for him.

"Oh, God!" Hermione cried as she felt Harry's tongue licking the cream from the top of her mound and down. The brunette grabbed the nearest pillow above her head and squeezed and twisted it. Her whole body tensed at the feel of Harry's mouth moving every sensible hair, licking every last particle, leaving behind the moisture from his saliva. He felt the man's fingers parting her nether lips as he continued to use his tongue to remove any cream that, at this point, it was almost liquid from the force of the heat on her skin.

"Hermione ... my Hermione ... so sweet ... so delicious," he murmured as he licked everything, absolutely everything that was outside and inside using his mouth to her drive her crazy.

And it was working.

She arched her torso to each new sensation. Hermione kept moaning as he felt the man's tongue exploring her most private possession. The sensation of his tongue…_oh, God!_ In and out of her with a skill that seemed impossible ... only to be surprised when he lifted up his mouth onto her clit, and the world began to spin faster.

If she thought Harry would be content with that, he proved her wrong.

Even in his trance, the green-eyed man used his tongue to caress that pleasant button while he inserted a finger into her virginal cavity and heard her moan so loud that Harry momentarily panicked. However, the green-eyed man slowly remove his finger out, then she sighed and, calmer, slid it back in and she trapped him contracting her inner muscles. Ecstatic to make her feel so much with only a finger, repeated this a few times, helped by the humidity in her entrance until, for the third time, introduced two fingers without ignoring those parts his mouth and lips worked.

This was by far the best experience Hermione had ever had. Never in a million years would she have imagined herself in such a situation, let alone that there existed such kind of pleasure. The girl didn't know what to do with that delicious ecstasy, but didn't needed it: her instincts, under Harry's influence, made her move her hips to him looking for continuing with this private and intimate contact.

There was a moment when everything was so overwhelming that a blinding light behind her eyelids, added with his mouth and his restless fingers, spread inside her body a warm, electrifying and vicious feeling. She was only aware of what he made her feel, but couldn't hear herself screaming.

Harry could hear, though ... and feel. He was astonished to perceive Hermione's muscles contracting around his fingers and under his tongue and lips he felt her throbbing, as though that intimate part of here had a life of its own. This provoked in him a strong and powerful desire battling on his lower parts imagining and longing to be inside her and feel at that moment. The thought ate him from inside out.

He could then drive her to completion while Hermione looked tense and open her mouth without making a single sound ... and she let herself fall into the cushions with a tender, satisfied sigh and Harry slowly pulled away from her wide open legs to admire her. He had never seen anything more sensual than Hermione in a position so inviting and captivating while breathing agitatedly and, now, without a trace of food on her body, completely devoid of the sweet coverage. He had tasted her completely and realized that nothing had prepared him for this.

He was still wondering if this wouldn't be just a dream.

Not wanting to be disappointed, Harry continued kissing her, this time, her thighs and legs waiting for this to help her to get her breathe back again but hinting at the same time, that he wanted to continue.

Slowly, Hermione senses got back to normal ... at least enough to pay attention to her heart's desires that demanded Harry's attention because it wasn't enough; from now on, it would never be enough. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to finish once and for all with the tension, with the strong desire and exciting need because she still felt incomplete ... and Harry was the only one that could end the wait so, unintentionally, Hermione sensuously raised up on her elbows to lift her bare torso and the green-eyed man looked up, feeling her move, stopped his ministrations. The man stopped kissing her legs and felt her honey eyes watching him so deeply that made his heart rate accelerate excitedly. That pair of honey eyes shining with desire and passion... emotions just for him.

Hermione raised a hand and beckoned him with a finger. "Come here," she whispered sensually still looking into his eyes.

Harry never had a moment's hesitation, he stood up and walked near the height of her head. He looked at Hermione's flushed face, but she was only looking into his emerald eyes, but with them, carefully examined the rest of his body, her hands following the wake of eyes.

She was sinuously sitting up at the table and reached out her hand to caress Harry's neck ... and then his hairy chest and then his nipples -Harry's response was a hiss that excited her greatly- and lowered her hand a little until she reached his torso. Hermione felt his muscles contract under her fingers as he closed his eyes and Harry gulped at the delicate touch. When the girl's hand got to his waist, without asking or saying a word, shook off the button and unzipped his trousers, she yanked down softly the garment and it fell to the ground allowing the girl to see the huge erection covered with his boxers.

Gasping at the impressive bulge, Harry opened his eyes and maneuvered to take off his shoes and pants, but he never imagined she would take him by surprise: as soon as he got rid of his clothes, the girl took the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to his ankles freeing the part that she imagined so many times, but thought her imagination didn't do him justice. Harry's manhood was there, before her eyes, free and proud, its base had a mop of hair that was born from the navel and a biggest proportion, even better than she had dreamed of, and under the scrutiny to which he was subjected, Harry could not help but feel nervous.

"Hermione-" he whispered, but she wasn't listening. The brunette took him gently with one hand and he gasped all the while clenching his fists, trying with everything he had not to cry out. The delicacy that Hermione's hand, stroking him up and down, stimulated him until his eardrums started to pound against his brain, allowed him to do anything but tense to the limit.

Hermione noticed this and knowing he'd submitted to her mercy, seized the moment.

"So ... you're hungry, aren't you?"

"Um ... I ..."

"Did you know I was here?" she asked him breathlessly.

"No! I swear I didn't ... oh, God!" Harry moaned as the girl's hand picked up speed.

"But you came anyway," and she brought her face up to the hard erected manhood and gave it a light kiss.

Harry hissed almost desperately.

Hermione smiled. She was amused to see that she could influence him in the same way he did: mercilessly. She wondered what would happen if she applied the same method he used with her. Still holding his shaft with her hand, put her mouth closely and could hear Harry groan as her tongue caressed his length.

"Her ... Hermione ... Oh! Please!" until then he had tried to see the roof, perhaps by reflex, but when the girl used her tongue to explore him, he had to look down at her and he didn't think this could excite him so much more ... until the girl paused, looked around -holding for a moment the boy's throbbing manhood- and bowed slightly to her right side. When she straightened again Harry appreciated the girl's hand holding a jar with a dark substance and then he knew what she would do...

Harry drew a hiss through his clenched teeth, feeling the texture of the chocolate on his cock, Hermione emptied with delicacy, even splashing his legs with a few drops and the next thing he felt was the girl's mouth eagerly devouring all the chocolate using mouth, tongue and teeth in the process as he moaned and howled trying not to come at that moment. He had to put both hands on her: one stroking Hermione's curls to hold her head and the other one on her shoulder, pressing gently enough to not hurt her but he had a hard time trying not close his fists in an attempt to hold back.

Hermione's instincts now took hold of her. It was the first time she did this but judging by Harry's response she felt that what she was doing was the right thing. It didn't take too long to lick him clean and with her unoccupied hand removed the drops on Harry's legs. Until then the boy could endure the unsettling sensation of her mouth without falling but he was sweating from the effort. Harry began to stir when he penetrated the girl's warm, wet mouth over and over and over and over, now free from chocolate on his cock, and again felt the sharp pain in his stomach that threatened to blow him up.

_'Delicious torture!'_ Harry thought.

He had no choice but to pull Hermione's hair to stop her.

It was all so fast ... Hermione felt her hair being pulled, but it wasn't as painful, and the next thing she knew was that she was lying back on the cushions on the table and Harry devoured her with a predatory look just before capturing her lips with unbridled passion that she simply couldn't resist. The man moved in weirdly... until she thought that maybe he was removing the boxers still around Harry's ankles and, once he did it, he accommodated his body between her legs, which were closed and he opened by force with his knees and thighs; since he found no resistance, it gave him more confidence and even thought that Hermione wanted this as much as himself.

And now it was just a battle of tongues.

But it wasn't enough.

While devouring each other in a passionate kiss, both Harry and Hermione used their hands to caress all they had at hand. The touch of their eager fingers on their hot, anxious skins withdrew the little oxygen at their disposal and the boy was forced to separate from Hermione's lips. After this, the green-eyed man immediately went to the girl's delicate neck. Kissing and licking, he got to her breasts to take possession of them as he pressed his pelvis against her and Hermione stifled a scream as she felt Harry's manhood rubbing against the part that wanted him so desperately. The brunette replied pushing her hips against his and Harry was forced to lift his face to her.

"Hermione ... I ..." Harry whispered without knowing exactly what to say. "If you want ... if you want me to stop now, just tell me," the last sentence came out almost strangled with accumulated passion, in a desperate tone that anyone would think he prayed silently that Hermione wouldn't.

"No," she said bringing his face up to hers. "Don't stop!" and with this, she captured Harry's lips only this time the kiss was tender and soft. The boy stroked her face softly in an attempt to relax her and himself, to distract and calm both while the tip of his cock settled on her entrance. The humidity pouring out of her lubricated his tip and caused them both to sigh and before he could think of nothing else, he introduced himself gently into her.

She stopped kissing him to open her mouth in surprise as she felt that huge muscle getting deep into her, though Harry kept his mouth over hers, but, like Hermione, tensed when he felt a barrier preventing him to continuing deeper. He then realized she was still a virgin and this thoughts invaded his mind and heart with countless emotions that almost made him regret it.

But there was no turning back. This was better than a dream. Hermione was a virgin and was giving herself to him willingly. With infinite tenderness watched her face and saw the girl's eyes full of love and dedication ... for him, mirroring his own with the same devotion. He pulled out a little and, firmly, penetrated her without stopping, feeling Hermione's hymen break in his wake, pausing when he couldn't go any further. She let out a scream drowned in Harry's mouth while her nails dug into his shoulders and her legs entangled around his hips, preventing him from moving from where he was, locking him with the power of her strained, long legs.

But Harry wasn't going to move.

For him this meant not only something new, but also beautiful. He'd never had sex with a virgin and this experience -it was infinitely much more than sex to him- took away his breath. She was so warm and tight ... Now Harry knew he was in love with Hermione, much more than what he would have thought or imagined.

For her ... Well, there were no words to describe the moment. Oh! Pain was definitely the first thing that every cell in her body registered, so intense that a few tears fell out of her tightly closed eyes. It wasn't any kind of known pain, but one that ran through her whole body in waves of something that couldn't be described because at the same time, the nature of her body had never felt anything remotely similar. She's able to tolerate that pain, with a stinging sensation of satisfaction so strong that she didn't know if moaning or screaming or both would be appropriated. After that, almost immediately recorded the pleasant sensation of Harry inside her, throbbing in synch as her inner muscles, as if it were a clock, in a unique and incomparable synchronicity.

All this in the blink of an eye.

Harry had to leave her mouth to concentrate on a growl that the girl could hardly notice.

"Gods!" Harry gasped and leaned his forehead on hers noticing the girl gasping the same as he was ... and watched the tears slipping out from her narrowed honey eyes. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry! Forgive me, please. I shouldn't-"

"Don't be. Don't worry," she muttered and the boy noticed the pain in her voice. "It's just ... this is new ... Never ... I had never felt anything like it…"

"I ... I didn't know."

She opened her eyes slightly and smiled slightly but the rest of her face still had traces of pain and Harry cursed himself for hurting her this much.

"It doesn't matter ... well, it does matter," and the green-eyed man began to question if all this wouldn't have been a mistake. He didn't want to believe it because it felt right ... it felt good. Hermione tenderly stroked the man's cheek that seemed overly distressed. "It matters...more than you could possibly ever think or imagine."

Harry watched her face, now, in a new light and couldn't even think of words because they came from the depths of his soul just before kissing her again.

"I love you," he murmured softly but clearly and captured her lips once again making a superhuman effort not to move as febrile as an animal. Hermione had only a moment of surprise because that wasn't expected, even remotely, hearing those words coming out of Harry's mouth, words just for her. And not only words, not any words, but those kind of words accompanied with a piece of himself; those words that meant everything to her.

She relaxed the pressure of her legs a little, releasing the man enough for him to move and Harry automatically withdrew his hips slowly while a slight moan came from her mouth fading into the mouth of the green-eyed man enjoying the pleasure of the friction of both sexes. Harry was sorry for causing pain to the girl, so he continued kissing her slowly in an attempt to give the tenderness he felt for the abandon in which she gave herself to him with everything that that implied.

_'Hermione is mine ..._ _only mine and no one else__'s__ ..._ _forever,'_ thought Harry and he didn't know where that possessive emotion came from. All he knew was that it had all the vehemence possible.

The green-eyed man gently broke the kiss and entered her again but this time looking at her face and she opened her mouth in a gasp as she was able to feel each ridge and vein of his member stroking into her hot cavity. Hermione noticed that the pain was receding and was, instead, gushing pleasure that gradually invaded her senses and when he was inside her again, again experienced that indescribable feeling of being filled and surrounded by him, Harry, the man that, she knew, completed her.

And every move of Harry's hips, instead of sobs, were now groans of pleasure what she let out.

It was an experience beyond anything imaginable for him and couldn't believe his luck because he had thought he'd never see that angelic face become into a fervent desired one. Each muscle on her face told him the pleasure she was experiencing and couldn't help but move a little faster, motivated by those cries that seemed to him the more celestial sound he had ever heard.

After a few moments, Hermione joined the boy's movements and it was his turn to moan. Their bodies showed them how to move and slowly increased the speed.

"Oh ... oh, Harry!" Hermione moaned feeling the boy buried himself to the hilt while her hands stroked his strong, powerful back perceiving how each muscle contracted, and hearing the gasps that provoked him. "Don't... don't stop!"

"I won't," replied Harry groaning. He used his hands to take one of her ankles until her leg rested on his chest letting him go a little deeper into her with every penetration -if that was even possible- listening how Hermione elevated her moans an octave. Harry caressed Hermione as if she were a newborn, from that cute ankle that was at his ear's height to her thigh and his calloused but expert fingers ended in her groin to touch her with the necessary firmness that made her cavity contract around him.

They both moaned loudly.

The other man's hand supported his weight to not hurt her. He could see Hermione's breasts bounce, rhythmically moving with each one of his thrusts and had to bend over to reach the tip of her nipples with his tongue, moving his pelvis in circles, rubbing that button of nerves now free of the protection of her nether lips. With this, Harry made the girl begin to feel again that pleasant warm pressure, that delicious tingle that started from her clit and spread to every fiber of her being.

"Oh ... oh, Harry! More! ...faster!" begged the girl in sensual moans and he smiled and obeyed the request.

"Do you ... you like?" stammered Harry pounding into her.

"Yeah ... oh!"

Now, Harry used his masculine force against her under the charm to her response. Pumping in and out of Hermione he could feel himself getting closer to his own climax. His muscles were already altered to suppress his need and had no choice but to help her with his fingers to reach the girl's clitoris.

"You are mine ... only mine!" he claimed possessively and it sounded more like an order.

"I'm... I'm yours ... I love you, Harry!" Hermione cried out and moments later, the girl felt every cell in her body explode while her cavity contracted in a way so impossible that Harry had the feeling of having fallen into the most exciting, heavenly trap. All his blood seemed to have been concentrated in his cock. Both felt surrounded by the other, their senses invaded each other, as the overwhelming heat around them both made them let go in joyful pleasure, they had cried to the gods, raising their voices to the heavens, savoring the moment of sweet bliss and the glorious sensation of him thrusting into her harder and faster.

Harry gave one last thrust, entering fervently in her and nothing could've give him more happiness than to introduce himself completely, letting himself come into her grunting ecstatically and admiring Hermione's mouth delineate an "o" closing her eyes as if she had the best dream of her life.

Panting with pleasure and exhaustion, his arms gave way and moved the leg that was on his chest, falling gently on Hermione's body -equally panting. The brunette instinctively surrounded Harry with her legs, holding him in place not wanting to ever let go, meanwhile, they were still shuddering as the orgasm ran throughout their bodies, as strong as sea waves.

For several minutes none of them could utter a single word. They could hardly catch their breath and took advantage of that time to wonder what had happened and what would happen next.

Not knowing what to do, Harry tried to pull away from her to avoid crushing her under his weight but Hermione didn't allow it.

"Please," she pleaded in a whisper, "don't go." And the green-eyed man looked into her honey eyes that seemed to beg.

He smiled sweetly, "I won't leave," and as he said it, Harry put his arms under her and turn them both to lie on their sides, Harry still inside her, her head pillowed on his arm.

In that single movement, Hermione felt a slight burning in her opening, letting out a shy, silent whimper that reminded him what he had done.

He watched her close her eyes and knew he had to apologize.

"Forgive me, Mione!" the man's words came out a little more tenderly, embracing her, pressed her against his body in an attempt to make her understand that he was there for her. "I ... I knew nothing. I had no idea you were here. I went in because I wanted to know what Ginny was painting, but I never imagined ..." and now he softened his voice that had a tinge of disbelief. "I never imagined that I would find my most fervent desire."

Hearing Harry's words, Hermione opened her eyes in surprise and excitement.

"What ... what desire?" hesitated the girl thinking he was referring to her, but had to be sure before she could get her hopes up.

And she wasn't disappointed.

"You," and again, Harry captured her lips in a memorable, delicious kiss, pressing her even harder against him, both chests in full contact causing that his erection, that was half awake, was renewed and the girl hissed at feeling him restore and grow inside her again expand her cavity once more.

Hermione gasped and that thrilled Harry.

Was that even possible? Yes, it was happening and she couldn't be happier.

Hermione stopped kissing him and whispered gravely.

"I love you," and moved her hips towards him, making both renewed the barely contempt passion with longing sighs.

He smiled challenging.

"And I love you even more."

After that, they let themselves get lost again in their world of pleasure.

Ginny woke up in bed in her room at the Burrow. At first she didn't know which day it was until she remembered her previous day's plan and her mind cleared completely putting aside drowsiness and checked her watch.

* * *

Ten o'clock.

With a chuckle, she took the blanket and covered her flushed face laughing at her own mischief: when they find out that she was the instigator, well, maybe they'd even thank her. Surely they'd want to look at the canvas and what Harry and Hermione ignored was that before she left, she had finished the painting ... with Hermione's face to keep a souvenir of the memorable day.

Ginny doubted that they were going to berate her for it.

* * *

The first one to open their eyes was Hermione and instantly became excited because she couldn't remember what had happened last night or what was all that surrounded her ... and slowly the memories came back to her, covering her heart with a warm feeling of satisfaction and happiness but, would Harry feel the same? Does he really love her? Why hadn't he said so before?

And while she asked herself these questions, she felt Harry move. Still embraced as they slept, after their nocturnal marathon. He raised his face to look at Harry's dreamy eyes and he smiled at her.

"Good morning, Scheherazade."

"Good morning, Raja," she replied smiling, while their faces came together for a long, gentle kiss now that the passion had been sated ... for the moment.

When they departed, both looked around. Everything was a little messy because of the various "activities" of the night, but far from being ashamed, crossed their minds the same idea: the Arabian Nights.

"Something tells me," Hermione said softly and Harry concentrated on her honey eyes that looked back at him warmly and lovingly mirroring his, "that Ginny planned it all."

"Why do you say that?" But as he asked, he began to think that, indeed, this was the work of a Weasley, no more, no less.

"Because she never came back."

Harry nodded, "Do you think the painting is a lie?" But at Harry's question, the girl just shrugged. Then, Hermione, still naked, got up to move involuntarily with extreme sensuality, and fully aware of every inch of her body, because the act of love making awakened each and every cell and put her on alert, as if her body had been sleeping until last night- and captured Harry's senses at that exquisite vision, following her closely until they reached the canvas. They looked at each other for a moment -the brunette blushed furiously looking at his amazing nakedness- and each took a dark corner of the sheet that covered the canvas ... and lifted it up.

"In Merlin's name!" exclaimed Hermione while Harry let out a, "WOW".

The image had an impressive realism. Like any magical painting, it moved: Hermione was lying on the padded table with one arm over her head, her features changing; looking timid at times, in others provocative, and others innocently. On her naked body rested fruit in little pieces with chocolate and whipped cream. The Real Hermione did not quite accept what she saw. The whole scene was a true picture of what Ginny caught and trapped in the canvas. The chiaroscuro and strokes that lined her body, with the brightness and hue accuracy, and the dim light from the window frame and the bright colors of fruits and furnishings made her think that she'd traveled to an alternate world where her other self reflected what was hiding inside.

Harry was completely caught by surprise. He could barely blink, watching intently every detail of the strokes that defined the curves of the girl in the picture. As if he could not quite believe what he saw, he turned to Hermione that was beside him and extended his arm; his hand gently stroked the girl's neck and she tensed as she felt his fingers slip, outlining the curvature of her breast down to her waist and then her hip, finishing on her thigh. Harry moved off his hand a moment from her body, who held her breath and blushed, only to hold her hand with his.

"I'm not going to let Ginny's hand get on this painting again." Harry's strong baritone declared firmly. "No one but me will see you like that ever again ... not even the same artist. No one!" he looked directly at her honey eyes and she felt happier with each passing moment. "I will pay for this painting whatever needs to be paid ... Now, only one question remains."

"What?" Questioned the girl with a small voice and he moved closer to her, joining their bodies in a delicate touch.

However, Harry looked at her seriously.

"I can buy the painting, but ... the original... would you too want to stay with me?"

"Do you think on buying me?"

"If you would've had a price, there wouldn't be gold, diamonds and rubies in the world enough to pay for even one of your precious eyes," he sighed trying to get some courage. "Instead, I would use every day, for the rest of my life and more, to love you."

Hermione's eyes flashed with a gleam filled with an excitement that, Harry swore, he had seen long ago and hadn't realized until now.

She had always looked at him like that.

"Then, why would you want the painting, if you already have me?" And the girl slid her arms around Harry's neck as he held her by the waist. The green-eyed man shuddered at what involved those words, what they meant. When their bodies left any space, below the navel of the man was a movement that felt squeezing the girl and made her take a breath.

"Because, when we are older and memory fails us, we can see the painting that marked the beginning of a happy life in which I made you mine."

"And _I_ made _you_ mine," she smiled.

"Forever."

"Are you serious?" Hermione's voice sounded so excited that Harry gave her a predatory look.

"I warn you, if you stay with me, there won't be any power that snatches you away from me or my heart. I'll put a ring on your finger with a spell that binds you to me for all eternity."

As he uttered the last word, Hermione lunged and jumped at him, trapping his lips with hers and her legs tangled around Harry's waist. And, as was for the majority of the night, they made love in a sweet surrender ... finishing off with the fruit, cream, chocolate and wine that completed the oriental dream.

For many, many years, the room remained as Ginny had decorated it, including the table.

**THE ****END**

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading this one shot :D**


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